


Broken

by MistressVanya



Series: Garden of Roses and War [4]
Category: Fire Emblem Heroes
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Comfort/Angst, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Minor Character Death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-20
Updated: 2019-02-20
Packaged: 2019-11-01 07:51:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,667
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17863325
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MistressVanya/pseuds/MistressVanya
Summary: “Why am I crying for him… When I almost died, he didn’t even shed a tear for me… He knew his son was dying, and he didn’t even show any grief… He didn't even care. Then why should I care… Why am I crying...”“Because you’re human.”





	Broken

**Author's Note:**

> I made this immediately after playing Book 3 Chapter 4. It just hurts me so much that I decided to write this work as a tribute for Gustav. I hope you like it. *cries*
> 
> English is not my mother language so I deeply apologize for any spelling or grammatical error.
> 
> Best Regards,  
> Mistress Vanya

_“Then die without regret. As ruler of the dead, I declare your life at an end.”_

_“No--!”_

_Katja could’ve sworn she saw a small, vague smile on the corner of Gustav’s lips._

_“Alfonse… Become a king, my son.”_

\---OooOooO---

It’s raining. Hard.

Katja wants to be sarcastic and comment how cliché this situation is, a pouring rain after someone’s death. Just like in those movies she watched. But Katja knows better not to said it, especially in front of Alfonse, Sharena, and Queen Henriette. Right now, she doesn’t know what to say nor what to do. While the soldiers are taking Gustav’s lifeless body to be brought back, and Fjorm and Anna trying their best to console the crying Sharena, Katja only stands there, letting herself drenched to the bone. She can feel Sharena and Alfonse’s grief, but she’s too confused and numb to do anything.

In the end, she tries to help by commanding the rest of the soldiers and the heroes to march back to the castle, since neither Alfonse nor Anna is in a proper condition to command. Especially with Sharena pouring her heart out in the Anna’s embrace.

She steals a quick glance to Alfonse, who’s walking alone separately. He has his head bowed low, making it difficult for her to depict his expression. With this heavy rain, there is no way to tell whether Alfonse is crying or not. Katja assumes he’s crying, thus why he walks separately from the rest of the group. He probably doesn’t want the others to see his crying face. Probably.

Again she looks around, observing the others’ current condition. Everyone else are either crying or having this sad look on their face. They’re grieving for Gustav. Even Eir looks sadder than before, though Katja doesn’t know why. Eir always has this sad look on her eyes. Is it just her that doesn’t actually  _feel_  anything? No, she’s not sad. Instead, she feels a pang of pity  _and_  guilt inside her heart.

And she knows that Alfonse feel the same thing. Guilt.

A deep, bleeding guilt that will destroy the prince inside out. The one that will eat him alive. The one that surely will make him do reckless things just to forget and numb the pain inside him.

At least Katja understands that much.

For now, she’ll keep her mouth shut.

\---OooOooO---

It doesn’t take long for them to arrive back at the castle. Katja sees Sharena runs towards Queen Henrietta who’s waiting on the front entrance with a worried look on her face. She observes the changes in Queen Henriette’s face at the sight of her dead husband. From surprise to shock then to full on crying before collapsing on her knees, Sharena in her embrace. Alfonse approaches them silently, not saying a word. He kneels before them and pulls them into his embrace silently.

Even now after Alfonse lifted his head, Katja still can’t spot any tears running down his cheeks. She could be mistaken by the rain, but no. Alfonse is not crying. He just has this empty, blank look on his eyes. He doesn’t utter a single word, only helping his mother and sister to stand and lead them inside the castle so they won’t get cold.

“Katja, I’m sorry can you go with them?” Anna puts her hand on her shoulder. “I’m going to give further instructions to the soldiers.”

Does that mean she has to do something? Like consoling them or comforting them? No. No, Katja can’t do it. Her lack of social skills made it hard for her in situation like this. Katja can’t handle a crying person, it’d just left her confused. Besides, she doesn’t want to pain them even further with her words. She’s afraid.

Or maybe she’s just too numb.

“No,” She flatly refused. “I think it’ll be better if it’s you, Anna. You know Alfonse and Sharena better than I do. I’ll take care of them.” Katja shoves Anna inside gently. Anna just stares at her eyes for a several second, before she nods to Katja and follows Fjorm and Eir.

It’s better like this.

“Katja, are you okay?” Lyn asks out of nowhere. Katja turns around and faces her team.

“Hm? Oh, I’m fine.”

Lyn has this weird look on her face and asks again. “Are you sure? It’d be better if you get some rest,”

“No, I’m fine. I really am.” She exhales and straightens her drenched robe. “All of you, return back to your barracks,” She orders the soldiers who respond with soft ‘yes’.

Then after she made sure that all the remaining soldiers are gone, she glances at her team of Reinhardt, Lyn, Hrid, and groom Marth. “Get some rest. Don’t forget to dry yourself properly. Dinner will be served at the usual time.”

Hrid looks like he wanted to talk to her, but in the end he decides to shut his mouth and returns his horse back to the stable.

Katja returns to her room, but not before informing the maids to prepare the dinner as usual, despite the current mourning situation. Judging from the sad look and tears on the rest of the heroes she passed, either Anna or Eir must have passed the news of Gustav’s death to them.

She passed the throne room briefly and sees Alfonse there, alone. He’s still soaked to the bone, like a drenched cat she often see in the alley near her apartment. Katja peeks slightly from the door, observing the prince. Alfonse is not sobbing nor crying. He just sits there in silence, glancing at the empty throne in front of him.

Why? Why doesn’t Alfonse cry, or at least sobbing? His Father just died, shielding him from his own demise. And yet here he is, doing nothing. Not that Katja doubts Alfonse’s feelings and grief, but she just doesn’t understand.

“I’ve told him to change his clothes five minutes ago and he still doesn’t move,” Tibarn’s low voice on her ear almost make her jump. “But it’s not like I can blame him. He just lost his father.”

“Does he…” Katja whispers softly, not taking her eyes off Alfonse. “Does he cry?”

Tibarn scoffs and crosses his arms on his chest. “No. He says nothing. He didn’t even respond me. He just look straight forward with this empty look on his eyes.”

“I see,” She bites down on her lower lip. Alfonse now is like a broken doll. A broken human, to be exact. There must be something she can do for him. Afer all, she’s his friend. And Alfonse did say that he has formed a bond with her.

“But maybe he’ll listen to you,” That makes her turn around to face Tibarn. “I know he will. Can you do us a favor and talk to him? At least so he can change his clothes and warm himself. He’ll get sick that way.”

“…I…” Can she? “I will do my best.”

A soft laugh escapes from Tibarn’s throat and he pats Katja’s wet hair several times.

“I owe you one. However, don’t forget to change your own clothes first before doing it, okay?”

“…okay,”

\---OooOooO---

She changed her soaked clothes into a dry one. Her Summoner robe is too drenched to be worn again, and her spare robe is still being washed. She discards her robe and goes with normal warm clothes. A pair of Yoga pants and a sweater Cherce knitted for her. Alfonse must be cold too, and still drenched from head to toe. So Katja takes two thick and fluffy towel with her to dry Alfonse with. Maybe she can urge Alfonse to take a warm bath later.

Katja quickly walks back to the throne room, but not before snatching two bread rolls and two steaming mugs of tea from the kitchen with her. She peeks inside the throne room just like before, and there Alfonse is. He’s still there, in the same position as before. Katja wonders if his legs got tired from sitting too long, but she brushed that thought away from her brain. Now is not the time to think about that.

Carefully she sets the mugs and plates beside them before sitting down in front of Alfonse. Yes, he’s not crying, just like Tibarn said. Though now that she’s this close to Alfonse, she can see the pain and guilt and sadness on Alfonse’s blue eyes. He looks… tired. Exhausted. And broken.

“Hey,” Katja smiles softly at him, taking one of the towels and drape it gently over Alfonse’s head. “You’ll get sick like this,” Then starts drying his hair.

Alfonse closes his eyes, and exhales shakily. Now, Katja knows why Alfonse doesn’t cry. It’s not like Alfonse doesn’t want to cry. Alfonse is holding his tears back. He doesn’t want to be seen crying in front of the others, especially the soldiers. Because after Gustav’s death, he’s now their king. If he showed any sign of vulnerability, the soldiers’ morale will go down. Yes, she understands now. She often saw this thing before, on her father.

Despite her initial fear of hurting Alfonse more by not knowing what to do or say, she eventually finds herself talking again to Alfonse. Anything unless everything that had happened today. All while drying Alfonse’s hair and face properly. She talks about how the horses are soaked that it’d be hard to brush their manes. She talks about tonight’s dinner. She talks about the flowers on the garden. She talks and talks while carefully removes Alfonse’s armor one by one.

Anything but Gustav’s death.

Anything.

Katja is afraid that if she talked about Gustav, if she tried to comfort Alfonse, she’ll ended up saying the wrong thing. And made Alfonse even more in pain than he already is.

When Alfonse doesn’t even respond her, she wants to give up. Until she sees the glistening on Alfonse’s blue eyes that don’t come from the rain (since his hair is no longer dripping now). Maybe this is his limit.

“You’re allowed to cry in front of me, you know.” She whispers softly, smiling. “It’s just me. Just the two of us. No one is here except me.”

And then the dam is broken.

Alfonse literally bawls in front of her, letting go all the pent-up emotions he tried to hold back before. His crying rivals Sharena’s, maybe more. Tears and snots are running down his face, and Katja has to admit he looks messy when crying. Yet she let him pours all of his sadness, all of his grief, and all of his pain to her. He hangs his head low, unable to look at Katja.

“There, there,” Her fingers run on his hair, while her other hand rubs Alfonse’s back up and down in a comforting gesture. “Let it all out,” Katja is not an expert at comforting people, but she at least know that crying will help Alfonse for now.

“I-I… I…” Between the sobs, Alfonse tries to form words. “…Father—“ And before he even finishes, he’s choking on his own tears and coughs violently.

“Shush, just… Don’t speak anything…” She pats his back to ease the cough. Katja knows usually at this time the comforting side should just hug the crying one. However, Katja doesn’t want to seem like she’s taking any advantages of this situation. Besides, for some man it might hurt their pride. She doesn’t want to take any risks.

Both of them don’t remember how long they stay in that position. Alfonse crying and bawling, and Katja holds his shoulder and back to steady him. Time flies, and neither of them count it. Alfonse’s bawling slowly lessens to soft sobbing with ‘father’ between each sobs. Gustav’s death must have hurt Alfonse a lot. After all,  _he’s_  the one who’s supposed to die. And yet, Gustav chose to protect his son and died instead.

A bitter laugh from Alfonse’s lips bring her back to the prince.

“Why am I crying for him…” He laughs. “…when I almost died, he didn’t even shed a tear for me… He knew his son was dying, and he didn’t even show any grief… He didn't even _care_. Then why should I care… Why am I crying...” Alfonse murmurs softly, almost inaudible to her.

Katja sighs and squeezes Alfonse’s shoulder. “Because you’re human.”  _‘And he’s your father’_  is left unsaid.

The prince laughs again. “…human, huh…” Right now, all Alfonse needs is a shoulder to lean on. A person he can rely on to. He scoots closer to Katja and rests his forehead on her right shoulder. She gasps at the sudden contact and does her best not to pull away from him. Alfonse needs this.

“It’s my fault, Katja.” He whispers again.

“And why do you think it’s your fault?”

“Because,” A soft inhale. “Because if I followed his order in the first place, all of these won’t happen. We’d all still alive. I won’t be cursed, and Father won’t die protecting me from Hel. Everything is my fault in the first place.”

Comforting words would mean nothing to Alfonse. Alfonse doesn’t seek comfort. He just wanted to be heard. He just wanted someone to hear his confession. He just wanted someone to slap the harsh truth on him, so that he realize his own foolishness. Though Alfonse doesn’t expect that from Katja.

“It is.” Come Katja’s reply.

“Excuse me?” He lifts his head to look at Katja’s eyes.

“It is your fault, Alfonse. King Gustav gave you an order that he knew would work the best. And yet you disobeyed him.”

Okay, it seems like he’s wrong. He currently can’t handle such bitter truth. He preferred being comforted with sugar-coated lies for now, thank you.

“…I see… I knew you’d agree.”

“But,” Katja continues. “But if you didn’t disobey him at that time, probably everything will turn to worse. I don’t know, and neither do you.”

“…Are you saying that Father’s death is the best outcome?”

Katja shrugs. “Maybe.” Then she smiles at Alfonse.

Alfonse sighs and places his forehead on Katja’s shoulder again. Then he goes silent.

At this moment, Katja almost panics. Did she say the wrong thing? Did she made Alfonse worse? This is why she shouldn’t comfort anyone. She ended up slapping Alfonse with harsh truths rather than the comfort he probably needed more. Good, Katja, now you messed this up. She’s supposed to comfort Alfonse, not making him feels worse. Stupid, idiot Katja.

“Can I have the towel? And the tea?”

She almost jump (again) from her position. “Here,” She drapes the dry towel around his shoulder and hands him the tea. “Careful, it’s still hot,” Katja decides that she’d drink her own share of tea, too. She’s getting a bit cold here.

“Thank you, Katja.” Alfonse sips the tea carefully and sighs at the warmth that’s running through his body.

“You should change your clothes first.”

“Mmm, later.”

The silence goes again for several more minutes, with only the sounds of their sipping and breath fill the air. Katja doesn’t dare to start another conversation, mainly because she can’t pick the right topic to talk. Alfonse is obviously is still in a pretty vulnerable state, and Katja doesn’t want to ruin the current mood.

“Hey, Katja.”

“Hmm?”

“You’ve lost someone too, right?”

“Yes, my mother. What is it?”

“How do you get over it? The pain and grief.”

Katja thinks for a while. “You never get over it. It just gets easier to deal with.”

“I see,”

Silence again.

“Katja?”

“Hmm?” Katja never know this talkative side of Alfonse.

“Father told me to become a king. Can I… Can I be a good king? A good king like him?”

Katja sips on her tea.

“No.”

“…no?” Alfonse sounds so broken and sad. Katja feels a bit bad for answering him with that.

“No, you won’t be a good king like King Gustav.”

“…ah,”

She smiles from behind her mug.

“But you will be a good king like King Alfonse.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading this work! Please give me a lots of love and kudos.


End file.
